Theocritus Part 15

AMYCUS.

I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow.

POLYDEUCES.

Not e'en such grace as from yon spring to sip?

AMYCUS.

Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip.

POLYDEUCES.

Can silver move thee? or if not, what can?

AMYCUS.

Stand up and fight me singly, man with man.

POLYDEUCES.

With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye?

AMYCUS.

Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try.

POLYDEUCES.

This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand?

AMYCUS.

I: and "the Bruiser" lifts no woman's-hand.

POLYDEUCES.

Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed a.s.sign?

AMYCUS.

Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine.

POLYDEUCES.

By crimson-crested c.o.c.ks such games are won.

AMYCUS.

Lions or c.o.c.ks, we'll play this game or none.

He spoke, and clutched a hollow sh.e.l.l, and blew His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine Cl.u.s.tering they came, as loud it pealed and long, Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too, The peerless in the lists, went forth and called From the Magnesian s.h.i.+p the Heroes all.

Then either warrior armed with coils of hide His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands, And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring.

First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch The sunlight on his rear: but thou didst foil, O Polydeuces, valour by address; And full on Amycus' face the hot noon smote.

He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war; Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed, Full on the chin: more furious waxed he still, And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows.

Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered Their champion: fearing lest in that scant s.p.a.ce This t.i.tyus by sheer weight should bear him down.

But, s.h.i.+fting yet still there, the son of Zeus Scored him with swift exchange of left and right, And checked the onrush of the sea-G.o.d's child Parlous albeit: till, reeling with his wounds, He stood, and from his lips spat crimson blood.

Cheered yet again the princes, when they saw The lips and jowl all seamed with piteous scars, And the swoln visage and the half-closed eyes.

Still the prince teased him, feinting here or there A thrust; and when he saw him helpless all, Let drive beneath his eyelids at his nose, And laid it bare to the bone. The stricken man Measured his length supine amid the fern.

Keen was the fighting when he rose again, Deadly the blows their st.u.r.dy gauntlets dealt.

But while Bebrycia's chieftain sparred round chest And utmost shoulder, the resistless foe Made his whole face one ma.s.s of hideous wounds.

While the one sweated all his bulk away, And, late a giant, seemed a pigmy now, The other's limbs waxed ever as he fought In semblance and in size. But in what wise The child of Zeus brought low that man of greed, Tell, Muse, for thine is knowledge: I unfold A secret not mine own; at thy behest Speak or am dumb, nor speak but as thou wilt.

Amycus, athirst to do some doughty deed, Stooping aslant from Polydeuces' lunge Locked their left hands; and, stepping out, upheaved From his right hip his ponderous other-arm.

And hit and harmed had been Amyclae's king; But, ducking low, he smote with one stout fist The foe's left temple--fast the life-blood streamed From the grim rift--and on his shoulder fell.

While with his left he reached the mouth, and made The set teeth tingle; and, redoubling aye His plas.h.i.+ng blows, made havoc of his face And crashed into his cheeks, till all abroad He lay, and throwing up his arms disclaimed The strife, for he was even at death's door.

No wrong the vanquished suffered at thy hands, O Polydeuces; but he sware an oath, Calling his sire Poseidon from the depths, Ne'er to do violence to a stranger more.

Thy tale, O prince, is told. Now sing I thee, Castor the Tyndarid, lord of rus.h.i.+ng horse And shaking javelin, corsleted in bra.s.s.

PART II.

The sons of Zeus had borne two maids away, Leucippus' daughters. Straight in hot pursuit Went the two brethren, sons of Aphareus, Lynceus and Idas bold, their plighted lords.

And when the tomb of Aphareus was gained, All leapt from out their cars, and front to front Stood, with their ponderous spears and orbed s.h.i.+elds.

First Lynceus shouted loud from 'neath his helm:

"Whence, sirs, this l.u.s.t for strife? Why, sword in hand, Raise ye this coil about your neighbours' wives?

To us Leucippus these his daughters gave, Long ere ye saw them: they are ours on oath.

Ye, coveting (to your shame) your neighbour's bed And kine and a.s.ses and whatever is his, Suborned the man and stole our wives by bribes.

How often spake I thus before your face, Yea I myself, though scant I am of phrase: 'Not thus, fair sirs, do honourable men Seek to woo wives whose troth is given elsewhere.

Lo, broad is Sparta, broad the hunting-grounds Of Elis: fleecy Arcady is broad, And Argos and Messene and the towns To westward, and the long Sisyphian reach.

There 'neath her parents' roof dwells many a maid Second to none in G.o.dliness or wit: Wed of all these, and welcome, whom ye will, For all men court the kins.h.i.+p of the brave; And ye are as your sires, and they whose blood Runs in your mother's veins, the flower of war.

Nay, sirs, but let us bring this thing to pa.s.s; Then, taking counsel, choose meet brides for you.'

So I ran on; but o'er the s.h.i.+fting seas The wind's breath blew my words, that found no grace With you, for ye defied the charmer's voice.

Yet listen to me now if ne'er before: Lo! we are kinsmen by the father's side.

But if ye l.u.s.t for war, if strife must break Forth among kin, and bloodshed quench our feud, Bold Polydeuces then shall hold his hands And his cousin Idas from the abhorred fray: While I and Castor, the two younger-born, Try war's arbitrament; so spare our sires Sorrow exceeding. In one house one dead Sufficeth: let the others glad their mates, To the bride-chamber pa.s.sing, not the grave, And o'er yon maids sing jubilee. Well it were At cost so small to lay so huge a strife."

He spoke--his words heaven gave not to the winds.

They, the two first-born, disarrayed and piled Their arms, while Lynceus stept into the ring, And at his s.h.i.+eld's rim shook his stalwart spear.

And Castor likewise poised his quivering lance; High waved the plume on either warrior's helm.

First each at other thrust with busy spear Where'er he spied an inch of flesh exposed: But lo! both spearpoints in their wicker s.h.i.+elds Lodged ere a blow was struck, and snapt in twain.

Then they unsheathed their swords, and framed new modes Of slaughter: pause or respite there was none.

Oft Castor on broad s.h.i.+eld and plumed helm Lit, and oft keen-eyed Lynceus pierced his s.h.i.+eld, Or grazed his crest of crimson. But anon, As Lynceus aimed his blade at Castor's knee, Back with the left sprang Castor and struck off His fingers: from the maimed limb dropped the sword.

And, flying straightway, for his father's tomb He made, where gallant Idas sat and saw The battle of the brethren. But the child Of Zeus rushed in, and with his broadsword drave Through flank and navel, sundering with swift stroke His vitals: Lynceus tottered and he fell, And o'er his eyelids rushed the dreamless sleep.

Nor did their mother see her elder son Come a fair bridegroom to his Cretan home.

For Idas wrenched from off the dead man's tomb A jutting slab, to hurl it at the man Who had slain his brother. Then did Zeus bring aid, And struck the marble fabric from his grasp, And with red lightning burned his frame to dust.

So doth he fight with odds who dares provoke The Tyndarids, mighty sons of mighty sire.

Now farewell, Leda's children: prosper aye The songs I sing. What minstrel loves not well The Tyndarids, and Helen, and the chiefs That trod Troy down for Menelaus' sake?

The bard of Chios wrought your royal deeds Into his lays, who sang of Priam's state, And fights 'neath Ilion's walls; of sailor Greeks, And of Achilles towering in the strife.

Yet take from me whate'er of clear sweet song The Muse accords me, even all my store!

The G.o.ds' most precious gift is minstrelsy.

IDYLL XXIII.

Love Avenged